The OutCrowd Magazine Spring 2017 by The OutCrowd Magazine

Syracuse University | SUNY - ESF The Independent LGBTQA Magazine Spring 2017 | Issue #18

| The OutCrowd Spring 2017

Do they zagareet in Gitmo? by Maysam Seraji

Do they zagareet in Gitmo? Is the sound muffled by waterboarding? By sexual abuse? Do they zagareet in Gitmo? Do they cry out in their native tongues - beautiful poetry even in pain; the worst pain imaginable do they cry out, in what is perhaps perceived as meaningless garble to their captorsâ&#x20AC;Ś priceless treasures thrown to the wolves! Do they zagareet in Gitmo? Do their tears stain the floors alongside the blood like diamonds and rubies strewn across a Godforsaken Earth. Do they Zagareet in Aleppo? In Baghdad, in Gaza? Do they hear each other in their hearts as I do?

Table of Contents |

NARRATIVE 06 20 38 46

The Wonderful Unknown Benchpressed Como la ‘A’ en Borracha Hi Gay, I’m Mom

SEX & HEALTH 10 PrEP(ing) the Gap 26 Beneath the Briefs 48 There Will Be Blood

FEATURES 12 30 42 57

Gone Girls Bridges to Belonging Business as Unusual Out: Diane Wiener

SOCIAL POLITICS 04 Keep Queer and Calm On 30 The Gay is Out There 42 Make America Gay Again

ARTS & ENTERTAINMENT 08 Lend Your Ear to the Queer 22 Kiss Me, Kate! 48 The Winner Takes it All

ART & PHOTO 16 28 34 56

Give Me a Sign Coloring Page Respect Existeence or Expect Resistance Lost Bet

POETRY i Do they zagareet in Gitmo? 52 Jumping Off Cliffs

Everything is fine.

It’s great, even. Nothing is wrong, the world is just one big hunky-dory gumball machine of fine. We are doing just swell, thanks for asking. Nothing to see here, just a lovely little magazine without a worry in the world. It’s peachy keen!

EDITORIAL Editor-in-Chief Managing Editor Production Manager

Farrell Greenwald Brenner Soleil Young Anna Moon

Features Editor Arts & Entertainment Editor Sex & Health Editor Social Politics Editor Narrative Editor

Elly Wong Grae Gleason Renata Husted Catherine Caruso Kate Fletcher

Copy Editor

Caroline Bennett

Social Media Director

Marta Lala

CREATIVE Design Director Art Director Photography Director Contributing Writers

Contributing Designers

Contributing Artists &Photographers

We are also calm. Every day, the staff of this magazine wakes up at dawn to meditate for two hours to the soothing voice of Bob Ross reading the iTunes terms and conditions, while our straight allies infuse the air with ginger and sage. We do not have any anxiety or dread about our political future. We are the furthest from panicking that we have ever been in our entire lives. We are so, unbelievably CALM. Which brings me to my next point: As you will soon be able to tell once you have leafed through our calm, cool, and collected issue, apocalypse is far from our minds. That’s why we have our signature coloring page (pages 28) back by popular demand. We’re not coloring as a coping mechanism for our overwhelming sense of helplessness in a chaotic world, or anything like that; we’re coloring because everything’s fine. We’re all fine. Oh, and if some of the illustrations look a little shaky or as if they were created under extreme conditions of stress and sleep deprivation, that’s just because our

Letter from the Editor |

artists practically vibrate with a sense of inner peace. Please don’t go to the studios to check on them, they’re fine. This is just a pretty little magazine so we’re going to be talking about Broadway (pages 48), bars (pages 12), and benchpressing (page 20). There is nothing political about these topics at all. We don’t need to think about politics, we’re fine. Ha! Everything is fine. Of course, there are some people who don’t think everything is fine—these are alarmists who ruin the quiet and blissful oblivion of our deep and abiding denial, and I’m sure they’ll calm down soon enough. Pay no attention to these rabble-rousing, lawn-trampling, dayruining troublemakers; they are sick killjoys, and I hear they even like women. They’ll tell you all about the impact of lesbian Latina feminist icon Cherrie Moraga (page 30), or even about the nuisances that ravage this very campus with their catchy slogans and campaigns for social justice (pages 34).

So as you breezily peruse this magazine, perhaps on an unspoiled sunny day on the quad, just remember that you too have nothing to worry about.

Everything is fine.

| The OutCrowd Spring 2017

KEEP CALM AND

QUEER ON LGBTQ life continues in the era of The Great Cheeto

by Grae Gleason

rotecting queer and transgender communities in the face of Trump-era bigotry will require long-term vigilance and resistance. These strategies remain essential not only for LGBTQ groups, but for all targeted by the Trump administration’s policies. Those groups include Muslim people, Mexican people, immigrants, people of color, and recently, transgender students. On February 22nd, the Departments of Justice and Education issued a letter revoking protections for transgender students, which were established during the Obama administration. These protections required federally funded schools to grant students access to tschool facilities such as bathrooms that correspond to the gender with which they identify. While the measure corrected the problematic practice of barring transgender students from accessing crucial public accommodations, the federal government’s recent

retraction of this policy allows schools to continue discriminating against transgender students. “In this context, there must be due regard for the primary role of the States and local school districts in establishing educational policy,” the letter stated. While the letter claims to rescind the previous policies in order to preserve states’ rights, many people remain skeptical of this explanation due to the homophobic and transphobic views of some the political figures of Trump’s administration. Vice President Mike Pence led efforts against marriage equality and anti-discrimination laws, Attorney General Jeff Sessions voted in favor of a constitutional ban on samesex marriage, and Chief of Staff Reince Priebus openly opposed the Supreme Court’s marriage equality decision. These anti-LGBTQ politicians may or may not have influenced this transgender discrimination policy, however their general appointment to federal

Running Social Politics Head | leadership positions has an influence on homophobic and transphobic discrimination nationwide. When prominent public figures hold such strong anti-LGBTQ attitudes, citizens are led to believe that they can persecute queer and transgender people without consequence. Since the Trump administration’s rise to power, the Southern Poverty Law Center, or SPLC, has reported numerous cases of politically-charged anti-LGBTQ hate crimes. The SPLC website provides

next action. We need a longer term perspective and a sense of history of what came before. Collectively watching and listening to talks on WeAreMany.org is a great start,” Wolf said. Queer and transgender communities aren’t the only ones who need to organize in protest against Trump. As new policies target Muslims and people of color throughout the country, collective action will be an important step in organizing.

Never forget, we’re at the early stages of our resistance right now and I think our three most important aims are organization, solidarity and struggle. examples of these crimes, such as the North Carolina couple that received a note saying, “Can’t wait until your ‘marriage’ is overturned by a real president. Gay families = burn in hell. #Trump2016,” Homophobes feel that having Trump and his advisors in power validates and encourages their bigotry. In the face of this bigotry, Sherry Wolf, senior organizer at the Rutgers American Association of University Professors – American Federation of Teachers explains what student organizers can do to protest the Trump administration and their harmful policies. “I’ll be blunt: students need to embrace political learning and debate alongside of struggle. Too few groups on campuses read and discuss and plan beyond the

“Never forget, we’re at the early stages of our resistance right now and I think our three most important aims are organization, solidarity and struggle,” Wolf said. Student groups at universities all over the United States are working to embody this solidarity as they find more ways to protest the status quo on multiple issues through direct action and lobbying local government. As efforts continue, working together and including people of all identities will strengthen resistance overall.

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The Wonderful Unknown by Marta Lala illustration by Kelly O'Neill

"Come with me to the beach."

iselle turned her head towards Ophelia, lying next to her. It was two in the morning, and it didn't seem like a soul was awake.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Ophelia. Why would you want to go to the beach now?" She rested a hand on the other's hip and scooted closer.

"Please Giselle. I need to go." The haunted eyes, the sad smile, the hand clutching sheets. "Alright let's go." They got up, pulling on random clothes from the floor. They moved through the dark apartment with hands on walls guiding their path, their voices hushed in giddy whispers.

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They ran down the stairs, losing breath as their steps echoed. Giselle looked at Ophelia, pants coming out from half open lips, the red glow of the exit sign on her face and reflected in eyes wide with excitement. Giselle laughed as Ophelia pulled her out of the building. Ophelia took off running into the night and Giselle couldn’t understand how anyone could be so ethereal. She followed the running figure, refreshed in the cold night breeze. Their apartment wasn't too far from the beach, just a trip down a large hill behind their building. Ophelia flew down the hill. When her feet landed back on the flat street, she didn’t stop for a second, taking herself straight to the sand that was only so far. By the time Giselle caught up, Ophelia was already lost, eons away from the moment. She stood with her back to the world. She was focused only on the vast unknown she had always desperately wanted to be a part of. The unknown she couldn’t help but watch. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, eyes locked on the dark expanse that seemed to swallow her. Giselle looked around the beach, not a soul in sight. The taste of saltwater was thick in the air as the high tide played with their toes. "With you here, yes indeed." Ophelia jumped away from the tide, giggling to herself. Giselle stood and watched, amused. When Ophelia was far enough from the water, she plopped

down, waving Giselle over. She sat down next to her. They held hands, Giselle's eyes on the stars above them while Ophelia's were focused on the ocean. A thread seemed to be the only thing holding the world together. She was unsure of where Ophelia’s thread tangled with her own, but Ophelia’s warmth told her that they were fine, at least for now. They toed off their shoes, letting their feet fall on top of each other. The world could fall around them and all would still be fine if they just kept their hands together. They didn’t need to speak. They knew the electricity that was flowing through the sea breeze spoke for the both of them. The chill of the nighttime air didn’t bother them. The lights that shined from the street lamps bathed the beaches, the sidewalk empty for miles. Time went by with subtle conversations, light touches, and stolen breaths without either of them realizing it. “Well, it’s officially four in the morning,” Giselle said with a yawn, checking her phone. She picked up her shoes and nodded her head towards Ophelia, standing up. “Let’s go home.” Giselle made her way towards the sidewalk, and her toes sunk into the sand that barely held her up. Her shoulders felt light, as if she had wings letting her soar. What she did not notice, perhaps for the best, was Ophelia standing still, eyes stuck on her wonderful unknown instead of home.

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LEND YOUR EAR TO THE QUEER Look no further for your new favorite queer musicians

by Hannah Mesches photography by Kai Nguyen

Frank Ocean

After years of delays, Frank Ocean finally dropped his second studio album Blonde in 2016. Acclaimed by critics and fans alike, the album debuted at #1 on both the U.S. and U.K. charts. Blonde will appeal to those who like a more abstract and experimental vibe. Before Ocean became highly popular, he expressed his queer identity in an open letter on Tumblr, in which he said, “I don’t know what happens now, and that’s alrite. I don’t have any secrets I need kept anymore...I feel like a free man.” After coming out, several celebrities voiced their support for the rapper, namely Beyonce, Jay-Z, Tyler the Creator, and Russell Simmons. Ocean also spoke out after the Pulse shooting, speaking about the homophobia he faced as a young child and how prevalent these principles still are in our society.

Arts & Entertainment |

PWR BTTM Liv Bruce and Ben Hopkins are the queer punk duo taking the LGBTQ community by storm. Their live shows are infectious and inclusive–an important aspect of events where some individuals may not feel safe. Before starting a song, the duo delivers a personal anecdote about what inspired it. Most have to do with interactions with family members and loved ones, difficulties they have faced growing up, or the love and support they witness. Bruce challenges gender norms while performing the song “Sissy,” singing “Who would I be if they never had taken my body, Drawn a blue box around it, and put a toy gun in my hand? Would I get such a thrill out of being so girly and naughty? Would I be so determined to be anything but a man?” Their new album entitled Pageant is available May 12th, but until then, you can find them touring all over the US and Europe.

St. Vincent

Annie Clark has a special place in my heart as both a female musician and a Texan. She showcases incredible musical skill and plays guitar, bass, piano, keyboard and synth, in addition to singing. When she isn’t releasing powerful-yet-fun art rock hits, you can find her waitressing at a Dallas taqueria run by her sister and brother-in-law. Although she has yet to release any new music since her self-titled album in 2014, her music still holds value. She made headlines with her ex-girlfriend, actress and model Cara Delevingne, in 2015 and 2016 before the two separated. When interviewed about her personal life and identity, Clark replied “I don’t think about those words. I believe in gender fluidity and sexual fluidity. I don’t really identify as anything… I don’t have anything to hide, but I’d rather the emphasis be on music.”

ilovemakkonen Atlanta rapper iLoveMakonnen, known for his successful hit “Tuesday,” came out to friends and fans in January on Twitter, saying “since y’all love breaking news, here’s some old news to break, I’m gay..” However, his tweets were met with some controversy from other artists; jabs were made about his masculinity, skills as a rapper, and his past. Despite this, iLoveMakonnen continues to be positive in the face of adversity and the unique challenge of coming out as gay as an African American man. The artist is an advocate of self-love and acceptance. Though he split from his label after having issues releasing music, his fans hope he will release another hit soon. In the meantime, you can find a chill rap vibe in his song “Down 4 So Long” featuring Despot and Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig.

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PrEP(ing) the Gap Black gay and bisexual men face disparities in HIV treatment

by Renata Husted photography by Jo Johnson

lot can be done today through the swallowing of just one pill: unwanted pregnancies are prevented, serotonin levels increase in the brain, and since 2012, the risk of contracting HIV is drastically reduced. Pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PrEP, is a once-daily pill that reduces a person’s chance of contracting HIV by up to 92 percent, according to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC). Approved by the Food and Drug Administration in 2012, the brand-name drug Truvada has been a light in the over-thirty-five-years dark epidemic. This medication, along with other preventative public health initiatives, has helped the annual rate of newly diagnosed HIV cases remain relatively stable in the U.S. The CDC reports that since the height of the epidemic, the annual number of new HIV infections has decreased by almost two thirds. HIV, a virus that has reached over a million people since its beginnings, is now talked about in medical circles in a similar manner as diabetes: lifelong but manageable.

A positive diagnosis is no longer accompanied by a death sentence— today, HIV-positive people can live well into their seventies with the aid of medication and routine doctor’s visits. Given this, the ruthless, unstoppable HIV/ AIDS narrative has just short of dissolved. For some that is. HIV and AIDS treatment looks vastly different across all demographics. The Black AIDS Institute reports that Black gay and bisexual men have an astounding one in two chance of contracting HIV in their lifetimes. Like most drugs and aspects of healthcare, these innovations are only beneficial to those who they’re marketed to and those who can access them: those who are not already under numerous heavy layers of socioeconomic and political injustice. When compared with a 1 in 99 chance of Americans in general contracting HIV, the disparity Black gay and bisexual men face is alarming and warrants immediate evaluation and action. One of the reasons behind this divergence of healthcare in the Black gay and bi community is rooted in HIV’s emergence in America.

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This break in narrative makes its way into HIV/AIDS treatment for the Black gay and bi community as a whole. The Black AIDS Institute provides us with information that depicts this drastic difference in care:

" Although HIV treatment has resulted in sharp declines in HIV-related illness and death nationally, racial disparities in HIV health outcomes have actually

increased in the 20 years that antiretroviral therapy has been available... While new HIV diagnoses in the U.S. as a whole fell by 19% from 2005 to 2014, new diagnoses among Black gay and bisexual men increased by 87%

Since its start, the AIDS epidemic was (and perhaps still is) known as a white gay man’s epidemic. The well-known AIDS activist groups of the eighties and nineties are associated with white faces. In 1981, the CDC published a report on five seriously ill gay men in Los Angeles, a report which would later be recognized for documenting the first reported cases of AIDS. This historic event is relatively well-known, but what is drastically less talked about is the fact that two of the five men included in the report were black. This absence of inclusion in history is representative of how the Black community continues to be left out of HIV/AIDS mainstream dialogue.

With a medication like Truvada at the modern world’s disposal, it is unacceptable that these statistic by race are so widely varied. Especially in a time when there are government initiatives, such as New York State’s End AIDS by 2020, it is vital to emphasize the needs of populations whose hardships are most drastic-this time centering them in the narrative. By way of expanding Medicaid or more widely offering public health services that offer PrEP and other preventative services without insurance government and public health officials can work toward lowering that 87%. With medical advances and (hopefully) learned lessons from the past, 2017 should not be the year that for some, acquiring HIV is analogous with flipping a coin.

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GONE GIRLS

One dyke explores the history and future of the lesbian bar by Cara Levine illustrations by Delaney Kuric

he phenomenon of the vanishing lesbian bar has been mourned, lamented, and critically excised in countless articles, blog posts, and conversations across queer circles. When I first pitched this article, my intention was to parse out this loss with the understanding that the closing of the bars was an unquestionable narrative. This was how I experienced it. When I was younger, rooting out the lesbian bars, coffee shops, and sex toy emporiums was mandatory whenever I landed in a new city—New Year’s Eve at Kim’s in New Orleans, that sleek dyke bar in Madrid, MoKaBe’s in Saint Louis. When we were first coming out, my friends and I tirelessly explored every dyke bar in New York City, from Meow Mix to Starlight. We were wideeyed and amazed that we had made it out of childhood alive and found rooms filled to the brim with women like us. This was 1999. Today I live in Syracuse, a city with no brick and mortar lesbian bars within 200 miles. Sisters, the last lesbian bar in Philadelphia, closed in 2013. Two years later the Lexington Club in San Francisco shuttered its doors. Washington, DC, Portland, and Chicago’s remaining dyke bars have closed.

RFeatures u n n i |n g13 Theories abound. The advent of Internet dating is frequently cited as a contributing factor—if you can find a wifey online, why go to a bar? The exhaustingly dismissive “U-Haul” and “lesbians are cheap” tropes, as popular today as 30 years ago, are tossed around. The gentrification of formerly queer neighborhoods, such as in San Francisco and Chicago, priced out local lesbians and raised operating costs to untenable levels. The shifting and morphing shape of queer identity accounts for much of the discourse. Christina Cauterucci of Slate argues that with so many young women now identifying as queer and bisexual, many find the idea of women’s spaces antiquated. Some feel that bars for women are inherently non-inclusive (this argument is rarely made

14 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017 in reference to gay male spaces, according to Byron Beck in Willamette Week) and seek out mixed spaces which are thought to be more open to diverse gender and sexual expressions. As some lesbians–especially wealthier white lesbians–no longer face the same degree of stigma and ostracization today as in the past, the need for lesbian bars as community safe spaces has decreased. Assimilation is the most discomfiting–and poignant–factor in the disappearance of lesbian bars. While my need to be in community remains as potent today as it was in 2004, I wonder if dykes still need each other. I cherish the young queers I know, but sometimes being an aging dyke feels clunky and passé, like a triceratops amongst velociraptors. I long to slip off to the late 90’s and play a game of pool in a smoky bar full of bulldaggers. Yet that narrative, though truthful, is a burden. It condemns and concretizes lesbians into irrelevancy and denies the continuing resilience of queer women. The last thing the world needs is another lesbian tragedy. Queer women are survivors. I want to honor our histories and make visible how our communities continue to create and occupy space beyond the bars.

In a 2016 Slate article, Alison Bechdel asserted that “Lesbians are inherently uncommodifiable.” The veracity of this statement is evident in Buffalo, NY, where queer women organized a “lesbian guerrilla movement” intent on creating temporal women’s spaces. With a simple “ambush” Facebook event in 2013, they began drawing crowds of over 200 cis and trans lesbian, bisexual, and asexual women to occupy those straight bars. Found in eight U.S. cities, The Welcoming Committee organizes pop-up parties, such as their monthly “Flannel Takeover,” “a roving party for lesbians, bisexuals, trans folks, queer women, and all who love them.” Although the online approach is novel, non-urban lesbians employ similar tactics. Stephanie Zuber, a clinical mental health counselor in Aurora, NY, takes a make-your-own approach to dyke bars. She seeks out bars that employ friendly women and lack aggressive cis-male clientele. “These aren’t ‘lesbian bars,’ but when enough of us are there, word spreads,” she said.

“LESBIANS ARE INHERENTLY UNCOMMODIFIABLE.”

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But not all lesbian bars have closed. New York City’s Henrietta Hudson and My Sister’s Room, or MSR, in Atlanta have both been open for over 20 years and continue to thrive as lesbian spaces. My first visit to both bars was 15 years ago. I returned this winter with my girlfriend, a gold-star millennial lesbian who, at 22, had no previous experiences with dyke bars. “There wasn’t a man for miles,” she later reflected. “It was really a space by and for queer women. There were folks of all kinds of queer presentation, lots of age and racial diversity.” My girlfriend was struck by the diversity of lesbian identity, something she had yet to encounter anywhere else. Her beautiful, diverse circle of queer friends includes scant few who identify as dykes or lesbians. From our perch at Henrietta’s front bar, where we sipped vodka specials and remained seated while braver patrons belted out karaoke standards, we felt like regulars.

On New Year’s Eve at MSR, we danced with fat women, disabled women, genderqueers, drag queens and kings, professors, butches, bois, and high femmes, a legacy of diversity and inclusion in the queer community that resonates historically. MSR is forever etched into my consciousness as the first space I visited where women using wheelchairs, fat women, and interracial couples were visible and erotic on their own terms. I don’t intend to romanticize these spaces– they are fraught with racial, class, and gender strife, as well as the bloody and divisive legacy of separatism, like any other space in the evolving queer world. The sustainability of these two bars is not in their capacity to serve a singular queer demographic, but to evolve alongside and within the communities. As the immediate, dire need for strictly lesbian community spaces seemingly passes into our histories, queer women continue to disrupt and dismantle. At our parties and in their bars, in backrooms, and in the streets we claim, we sustain ourselves through the screaming, sweating pleasure of our shared sisterhood. Lesbian space, by any name, cannot be confined nor defined by bars alone.

L 16 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017

give me A Sign Photos by Genevieve Pilch ASL interpreted by Michael Mazzaroppi Just as spoken LGBTQ terminology is constantly evolving, so are the signs used to represent it in American Sign Language. These are commonly used signs today, but fingerspelling is always a safe alternative.

To sign “lesbian” the thumb and pointer fInger form the letter “L”which is tapped against the chin.

Photography | 17

Ausescommon sign for â&#x20AC;&#x153;gay" the letter â&#x20AC;&#x153;G," Pinched against the chin.

18 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017

“BISEXUAL" is shown using the signs for “B" and “I" spelled out in front of the body.

Photography | 19

The sign for “TRANSGENDER" TRansitions from a “C”shape on the chest, bringing the fingers together, rotating the hand, and bringing it back to rest on the chest.

20 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017

by Dominic Martello photography by Genevieve Pilch

a workout gives way to questions

Are you looking at me?

Me. I guess I look kinda cute in this today? But you? You’re soo... Big. Built? Shredded? God, I hate that word. Shredded. There should be some rule, like at clubs. You see a guy, he makes eye contact with you– BAM–invitation to talk. The gym? Now, that’s a different story. Is it intimidation? Who the fuck knows. There are only two places in this world

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How are they all so naked and talkative? where scantily clad men show off: gyms and gay clubs. Or Pride. Well, I guess Pride is like the meeting ground. Plus gym bodies are the only acceptable bodies at Pride–which speaking of–these squats kill, who the fuck decided that fat asses are back in? I probably won’t go this year. Those overalls I wore last year just show how bad my chicken legs are. Although... Mista Muscle over there seems to think differently. I see you looking at these deep, deep squats. Mhhmm? Like this? Wait? Where are you going? Ah. Okay. Yes, of course. Of course! It's the girl with the tri-delt hat on doing squats next to me. Deeper squats. Typical. It’s always the fucking tri-delts. I gotta give it to her, she’s werking those soffe shorts. Jesus Christ, that was so gay. A text? Oh. Tinder. What else is new. I guess I’ll check it now, I need rest. Oooe, you’re cute. 31 miles away? Eh. That's a hike. You’re not that cute, maybe if “Hey dude, it's like super fucking crowded here so can you not like text during your sets?” Uh! Yes, sorry... uh dude. Fuck. Did he see that I was swiping for guys? Is that why he approached me? Does he think that just because I’m gay he can tell me what to do? I might be paranoid. I don’t know. You hear things. Hmm. Maybe I’ll just go finish up with cardio. Alright. 6.5 miles per hour. Great. Damn, this new RuPaul album is fierce as shit!

You’ve gotta be kidding me. You again? You had to pick the treadmill next to me? Apparently staring at my poor bench form wasn’t enough. You're looking at me again. Great. Maybe my music's too loud. Yup. He can definitely hear this. Must be obvious how gay I am. STOP looking at me!! Geeze. Are you gay?? Wait. Does it make me homophobic for getting angry at another guy looking at me with potential lust? Woah. Meta. Shit I’m late for class. I need to go shower. Alright, I have my shampoo and soap and–WHAT? Where is my swim suit? Okay well there are only two guys here so I’ll just have to deal with being naked. I love my body. I work hard for it. It's fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. Okay here come a few more guys. Okay. They know each other. They’re having a conversation. Another one just showed up. All naked and talking and holy shit there are more. Is this a fucking team? How are they all so naked and talkative? GAH. And all fucking sculpted by the Gods holy hell. Shit did he see me glance over? Keep your head down. Breathe. Finish this shower and breathe. “Don’t be such a little fag, bro.” Did he just say–oh thank God it was to one of his friends. Okay. Head down. Dry off. Head down. Get clothes on–fuck these are so gay–head down. Breathe. Water polo team? Of course it’s the fucking water polo team. Head down, breathe, head down, breathe... Thank God. You know, you would think that’d be a dream, to shower naked with all those athletes. Shit. That’s terrifying. What was I so afraid of? I’m a proud gay man, aren’t I?

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KISS ME, KATE!

McKinnon is a trailblazer for queer women in comedy by Michelle Golonka illustration by Rebecca Sorkin fter the 2016 summer release of Paul Feig’s Ghostbusters, human beings across the Kinsey scale were abuzz about Kate McKinnon. While McKinnon may not have had the most lines, she stole the show and hearts across America as Dr. Jillian Holtzmann. Though the film seemed to boost McKinnon into public consciousness, she has been a part of the comedy scene for quite some time.

various background roles that bolstered other cast members as well. However, she quickly became a crowd favorite and stole audience’s attention with dynamic facial expressions, and demanding presence. Lorne Michaels and other SNL producers realized her potential and began casting her in lead roles. Her most famous roles include Justin Bieber, Ellen, and Hillary Clinton.

In 2006, McKinnon joined the cast of Rosie O’Donnell’s Big Gay Sketch Show. Staying for the show’s entire run, McKinnon was a powerhouse in every role, from Rachael Ray to Barbara Walters. She joined the Saturday Night Live cast in 2012, where many believe she started to gain momentum as a comedian. In her first season, she played

McKinnon’s performance as Bieber can be analyzed as a kind of radical queer performance. While poking fun at Bieber’s ego and self-righteous masculinity, she performs convincingly and hilariously. She has previously told Conan O’Brien that she channels the impression by “looking like a puppy who just piddled and is sort of sorry about it.”

Arts & Entertainment | 23 This role is also reminiscent of drag king culture and fashion. In popular media, there is a distinct lack of drag performances by women, and the ones that do exist, like Lady Gaga’s ‘Jo Calderone’ alter ego, are rarely comedic. McKinnon’s performance as Justin Bieber demonstrates that gender performance can be fun and clever on all sides of the spectrum. Her role as Ellen has also been praised greatly. Audiences have lauded her chaotic energy and frenetic dancing in this role so highly that Ellen herself has acknowledged McKinnon’s hilarity by inviting her on the Ellen show to riff on the bit. McKinnon’s performance as Hillary Clinton has also entertained America for the last several years. Expertly capturing Clinton’s mannerisms, McKinnon depicts the politician’s struggle to be seen as likable, feminine, and powerful all at once. Clinton herself has joined McKinnon in sketches on the show, and the two play beautifully off one another. A highlight of these sketches includes a

moment in 2015 when McKinnon made a jab at Clinton for her late support of marriage equality. These successes not only benefit McKinnon, but also represent a triumph for queer women in comedy. McKinnon is the first openly lesbian SNL cast member (though former cast member Danitra Vance came out after leaving the show). In a time when gender identity and freedom of expression are being threatened, McKinnon’s powerful performances are a sign that lesbians are visible and here to stay. Throughout media history, queer women have been objectified, stereotyped into the “the evil lesbian” trope, or forced off shows altogether. McKinnon’s achievements in the comedy world are powerful because her queerness is an indistinguishable part of who she is; it cannot be separated from her performances. Her work demonstrates that talented people of any identity can thrive in entertainment.

“McKinnon’s performance as Justin Bieber demonstrates that gender performance can be fun and clever on all sides of the spectrum.”

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The Gay is Out There A DIRE WARNING TO OUR STRAIGHT READERS by Delaney Kuric photography by Genevieve Pilch

e live in a big scary world full of constant danger. In such a perilous place, there’s a lot to worry about: predatory animals, random weather patterns, nuclear war. We’ve got so much to deal with, yet on top of all of that there’s another threat always lurking around the corner… becoming gay. That’s right! No one is safe! There are so many temptations to lure you into the dark LGBTQ-fold, so steer clear of the following well-laid traps. 1) CHEMTRAILS We don’t know what those white trails behind airplanes are doing to us. No one would be surprised if they were just raining that gay chemical down on us, because we know the government has barrels of that stuff piled up in the basement of the White House. 2) CHICKEN

According to Colombian supermodel Natalia Paris, because chicken is pumped full of hormones, any young boys eating it will definitely become gay. That is why young men should only eat 100% raw beef, or tofu. 3) TOFU Just kidding! Tofu makes you gay too. Conservative blogger Jim Rutz insists in a six-part essay that “Soybean products are feminizing, and they’re all over the place.” Every vegetarian in this country is at risk! 4) JUICE BOXES

Social Running SocialPolitics Politics Head || 25 25 Next time you see a child at the park enjoying an ice cold juice box, do your country a favor and just slap that thing right out of their hands. Because according to Alex Jones — a man who has uttered the words “They are putting chemicals in the water that turn the friggin’ frogs gay!”— the frightening fact is that the lining of juice boxes are chemically composed to turn the children of America gay so that they can’t have children. 5) EDUCATION Are you in school? You’re not safe. In 2014 a Republican Florida State Representative, Charles Van Zant, stood up in front of a crowd and claimed that the Common Core (the academic standards that all primary and secondary educational institutions must reach) is actively encouraging children to “become as homosexual as they possibly can.” 6) A STROKE In 2011, a Welsh rough-and-tumble rugby-playing straight man broke his neck and had a stroke. He woke up feeling attracted to men and wanting to open a hair salon. 7) DISNEY’S FROZEN Let’s not lie to ourselves we all know what would’ve happened if Elsa and Anna weren’t sisters.

8) PRISON Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Ben Carson believes that “a lot of people who go into prison straight, and when they come out, they’re gay.” So the prison industrial complex is really just a big gay factory. Watching too much Orange is the New Black will also have the same effect. 9) DORITOS Say you’ve already thrown out all the chicken, tofu, and juice boxes in your house and you settle in for a nice snack of Doritos. Joke’s on you—you’re still not safe. According to yet another conservative blogger by the name of Ed Straker, the joy of eating Doritos “introduces children to the joys of homosexuality.” 10) PORN A fascinating post on the blog 2 Know Myself describes how porn makes you gay, and conveniently plugs the author’s how-to-end-your-porn-addiction book in the conclusion. They claim that because you watch straight porn and see both participants naked, that the pleasurable feelings you may get from witnessing one sex naked will make you feel similarly about the other sex, just by association. So be careful next time you watch too many funny cat videos because you may want to become a cat. I think that’s how it works. There you have it. Stay evervigilant in this perilous world and carry this list with you everywhere you go so you can avoid mistakes. And make sure to leave all the good food, higher education, adult entertainment, and fun to the gays.

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Beneath the Briefs One writer takes on body hair, shaving, and queerness by Maria Ingaglio contributions by Renata Husted illustration by Joleyne Herrera

irst they tell you to shave it, then to pluck it, to wax it, to thread it; they tell you to hate it. By “they” I mean the patriarchal world of media that markets body hair as undesirable, unattractive, and unwelcomed—especially by men. We aren’t born with the understanding that body hair is bad and should be removed. Gender roles and sexual stereotypes communicate what to do and not do with our bodies, clothes, and essentially our lives. Sexuality and sexual orientation undeniably impact our thoughts and feelings surrounding pubic hair. Thankfully, LGBTQ people have continued to challenge body and pubic hair removal as an act of resistance.

There are queer women and trans people who actively resist against the patriarchal influence that too often dictates the way we feel about bodies and body hair. Social media sites like Instagram and Tumblr have been productive places where accounts like “The Vulva Gallery” and “Ladyist” work to dismantle the pervasive misconception that our bodies are not acceptable the way they naturally come. By celebrating bodies that are not commonly seen and idolized in mainstream media, feminists everywhere have alternative media content that not only reminds them that they’re perfect just as they choose to be, but that they’re living their lives to one less man-enforced-ideal.

SexR&uHealth| n n i n 27 g On another hand, straight women and gay men unknowingly or electively choose to subscribe to this ideal—that men don’t find hair attractive, especially pubic hair. We’re constantly reminded of this through images in pornography, movies, television, music videos, commercials, magazine, and so on. With these hard to reach standards, we’re left with unsatisfied perceptions of our bodies, razor burn, a thinner wallet, or all three. This concept is also seen throughout gay culture. There are gay communities of men that celebrate and embrace hair as masculine—take Grindr’s bear and otter tribes. These more burly, often chest-hair-ridden men, are often seen as more desirable compared to more feminine, young looking, slender, hairless gay men, or as Grindr users would label them, “twinks.” Similarly, the norms of advertising objectify women, zooming in on sexualized body parts or eliminating the actor’s identity in general in order to focus on her physique. Body hair isn’t about the grower, but the voyeur. Like with most aspects of feminism, women and feminine people of color face different situations when it comes to what grows on their skin.

[Now] I think ‘This is who I am and I don’t have to assimilate my body into your norms.’ My body hair isn’t ugly, it’s part of my femininity.'

In an article for gal-dem magazine, Paniz Khosroshahy, reminds white women that their skin is a big part of their ability to go hairy: “Femininity has been denied to women of colour of different ethnicities in different ways. Women of colour have been seen as unwomanly, dirty, either hypersexualized or desexualized...if at some point you [white women] do decide to challenge these norms by not shaving, you always have the privilege of fitting back into the “norm”. This ideal continues to enormously influence perspectives on hair that are internalized by people of all genders. In a video for the What’s Underneath Campaign, Alok Vaid-Menon, a gender non-conforming writer, speaks on their particular perceptions of how body hair fit into their gender identity. “Growing up I was taught that my body hair was masculine, and I used to shave it off because I hated myself. [Now] I think ‘This is who I am and I don’t have to assimilate my body into your norms.’ My body hair isn’t ugly, it’s part of my femininity.” Theory aside, the pubic hair on your body actually serves as more than just a fuzzy patch to keep you warm. Your bush loves you and wants to be there for you. It protects some of your most tender skin and helps keep you clean and dry below the belt-and is also a great decoration to your naked body. So regardless of what mainstream media depicts, we all have the agency to choose what we want to do with our bushes. Our understanding of body hair may be informed by heteropatriarchy, but resistance is possible. So if you’re feeling rebellious and able, take those over priced pink razors, throw them on the ground and listen to the patriarchy’s thick walls crack.

Coloring Page | 29

illustrations by Vell Cummings

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Bridges to Belonging Queer Chicanas connect with and respond to CherrĂe Moraga by Amy Quichiz

RFeatures u n n i |n g31 Natalie Delgado, a senior studying Selected Studies in Education

he Bridge, built through internal differences, gives a pathway to those who are subject to change. Though this change does not come easy, this Bridge can bind muxeres together through powerful experiences and political kinship. A concept introduced by Cherríe Moraga, a Chicana writer, feminist activist, and playwright who visited Syracuse University in March, the Bridge continues to make room for collective spaces geared toward survival. In This Bridge Called My Back, Moraga has recreated her own journey of struggle, grown consciousness, and has tried to frame her politics and vision as a woman of color. Many of us, as women of color, have navigated many pathways in finding our own identities while unlearning “truths” that have been internalized for many years. When reading Moraga’s work, it all hits home. Her stories are meant for all the women that feel the exhaustion in their bones every day with fire flaming in their hearts for writing an unwritten future, and for all the women who are still afraid. Being queer and Chicanx has forced these strong Chingonas to challenge themselves, find people that look like them, and push themselves out of their comfort zone. Moraga’s Bridge is a reflection of all these stories intertwined. Through Chicanx literature, Syracuse Chicanas have become women of color—forming friendships, creating solidarity, and challenging themselves and each other to seek knowledge.

Identifying as a Chicana means more to me than being proud of [my] culture and doing the work [in order to] decolonize myself and embrace my indigenous roots. It means consciously making an effort to fight for the rights of my community and to dismantle the oppressive syst ems that constantly inflict violence on us. As a woman, it means getting rid of machismo because I’ve know too many women who’ve suffered at the hands of their abusive husbands and the only way they can talk about their problems is through chisme. As a queer woman, it also means getting rid of queerphobia in my community. As a Chicana, I’m always taking the initiative to educate myself on the privileges I have and standing in solidarity with those who are victims of colonial/state violence. Connie Flores, a senior studying Communications Design [Chicana] was a term for being of two cultures, which is something that I could relate to, because I was constantly putting myself down for not being ‘Mexican Enough’. I felt like my indigenous side was neither celebrated, nor acknowledged when using these terms, so I stepped away from them. I didn’t want to have anything to do with whiteness of [Spaniard descent], and I felt that Xicanx still embraced that…I [also] wanted to step away from my American identity because of the displacement that it’s caused the people of Mexico... because of the concentration of Mexico’s resources in America, [and] the backlash my family gets just for existing in this country we have no choice but to come to. [However], ignoring this does not

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“I met queer, trans, black, Muslim people looking to hear from Moraga because her ideas can affect [those] outside the Xicanx/Mexican community.” credit the amazing culture that has come from these people creating their own spaces. Not acknowledging my European roots means I give into the “I don’t see color” [ideology] because I benefit from having white skin while also getting ‘Othered’ because ‘I look Mexican’ from my big nose, mi espalda ancha, my black hair and eyes, my lovely indigenous features. Basically— Xicanx covers the craziness of existing between two cultures. Katherine Sotelo, a junior studying Television, Radio & Film on the The Mathematics of Love script reading at Syracuse Stage The way Moraga wrote dialogue in both Spanish and English flowing them in and out of one another, spoken the way the Chicanx tongue works—I really enjoyed and resonated with her use of

mixed language as it reminded me of how my family talks at home. Flores It was inspiring to hear someone as ‘outside the box’ of what a Mexican womyn is be successful, be relevant, and inspiring to so many others. I hadn’t thought much about being queer and coming from a Mexican household...I felt that it was something I’ve always avoided after seeing my brother’s experience of coming out. I thought a lot about how queer Xicanx navigate space in their homes, about the discomfort of having all these questions about yourself and feeling like you can’t express these thoughts to people who are supposed to have your best interest at heart.

RFeatures u n n i |n 33 g Delgado on the Social Justice Series event with Moraga I don’t feel represented as Chicana in the queer community; I don’t feel my queerness represented in the Chicanx community. But I tolerate the queerphobia in my own community rather than tolerate racism. In this moment, [Moraga] said to me that I do this because these people are my cultura, they are my pueblo. But she also told me to keep doing me and not force myself to settle, even if that means feeling alone. My people will come one day. After hearing this, I realized I needed to start living more truthfully to myself and to what I wanted...Even though I may not have an explicit queer Chicana community at SU, I was able to find a femme family here that has contributed to so much of my personal and spiritual growth. They are the people I can talk to about feeling alienated in one community or the other, and just about love. Flores I met queer, trans, black, Muslim people looking to hear from Moraga because her ideas can affect [those] outside the Xicanx/Mexican community. What Mexican communities and ‘Latinx’ communities face is not unique to them, but also [affects] other groups. And from that radical understanding, we build bridges, connections, and solidarity in order to join and provide each other tools to uplift our own communities, while helping each other when we can. Delgado I have had my time in academia and now I am ready to [return] what I learned here, back to the San Fernando

Valley or other Xicanx/Mexican/Latinx communities. Moraga has influenced me to live more unapologetically. I have always been proud to be Chicana, but I have never been proud to be open about my queerness. I thank her for that.

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Photography | 35

Respect Existence or Expect ResistanceÂ If you ain't about it, be about it! photography by Lashelle Ramirez Being an activist means fighting for the rights you believe in. When you're involved in a group of people that constantly have your back and fight for your right to exist regardless of their background, that's when you really start believing that you can make a change in this world. Being queer has always been a fight. We make our voices heard. We are still fighting and we won't ever stop because being queer isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t our only identity and we must fight for justice for everyone.

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More LGBT legislators are serving in state and national houses and senates than ever by Michelle Golonka illustration by Natalie Boucher

In the midst of a homophobic administration, there are individuals who resist the status quo. Within the congressional branch of our national government, there are LGBTQ representatives of Congress who refuse to be overlooked and are fighting for equality and rights for queer Americans everywhere. Here are just a few.

Mark takano Mark Takano, a representative from California, is the first openly gay Asian-American man in Congress. Takano wears his identity with pride, and told The New

York Times, “First openly gay person of color is a long moniker. I give people permission to use the word Gaysian.” Takano has been a representative since 2013, and is on the Education Committee, where he works to pass anti-bullying legislation for LGBTQ youth. He also has spent his career encouraging Obama to pass a an executive order barring federal contractors from discriminating against LGBTQ workers. When asked to comment on his colleagues who oppose the goals of this movement, Takano says, “I don’t excuse them for their lack of courage. I do find it reprehensible that they are sincere about their intransigence and willfully stand by this very backward stance, but I don’t hate them. I pity them as morally immature.” Takano previously an English teacher is known for marking up the papers of his fellow representatives in red pen.

KRYSTEN SINEMA Kyrsten Sinema is a second term Arizona Congresswoman in the House of Representatives. She has a masters degree, a Ph.D, and a law degree. Sinema has never been married, has no religious affiliations , and was homeless for a while as a child. Sinema is also the first openly bisexual person elected to Congress. Since elected, she has worked tirelessly to oppose anti-LGBTQ legislation such as Propositions 107 and 102, voter referendums that sought to ban recognition of same-sex marriages and civil unions in the state of Arizona. Sinema is a co-chair of the House LGBT Equality Caucus, of which she says, “While we’ve made significant process in recent years, we still have more work to do and must protect the progress we’ve made. Our caucus continues to work to ensure every American has

Running Social Politics Head | 37

the fundamental freedom and opportunity to pursue the American Dream.” The House LGBT Equality Caucus has denounced Trump’s anti-trans cabinet appointees and condemned Trump’s removal of LGBT elders from the National Survey of Older Americans Act Participants. Sinema and the other 102 members of the caucus continue to fight to make LGBT voices and concerns heard, especially in spaces in which they have little representation.

After the June 2016 Pulse shooting in Orlando in , Baldwin noted that the tragedy demonstrates how far we have to go as a country in terms of equality, while the Supreme Court decision of June 2015 demonstrates how far we’ve come. It’s important to note and call attention to the current inequalities we face, while celebrating strides made toward equality. Baldwin is currently serving her third term as Wisconsin Senator, and her voting record marks her as one of the most liberal members of congress.

TAMMY BALDWIN In the 2012 election, Tammy Baldwin made history twice over by becoming the first woman elected to the United States Senate from the state of Wisconsin, and the first openly gay person ever elected to the Senate. Baldwin said she ran “to make a difference” and not to make history, but that she also hopes her win helps to make the Senate more reflective of the “life experience” of women. Baldwin, in cooperation with Congresswoman Suzan Delbene, has been advocating for the establishment of an LGBT Equality Day.

Though representation of LGBT individuals in the legislature is not what it should be, the LGBT Equality Caucus has doubled in size since the last election. Representatives like Tammy Baldwin, Kyrsten Sinema, and Mark Takano are working ardently and collaboratively to ensure that LGBT rights are not overlooked.

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COMO LA 'A' EN BORRACHA ABUSE CANNOT ERASE IDENTITY

by Natalie Alejandra Delgado photography by Jenna Cavanaugh

RNarrative u n n i |n 39 g

t’s 2 a.m. on New Year’s, and I’ve just finished having my first drinking session with my mami. As the alcohol seeps in, thoughts of my emotionally abusive ex flood my mind and take the shape of tears running down on my face. It’s my first time seeing my mami drunk, and it’s her first time seeing me in a place she’s been before. She gets up to pat me on the back and say, “Ojala que encuentres un muchacho major.” Soon enough, I gather my thoughts, and I process her statement. I don’t know how to tell her that it should be muchacha como la ‘a’ en borracha, el borroso estado de animo en donde me encuentro en ese momento.

It places me in a position where I’m made to doubt my own feelings and constantly have to prove my queerness.

The process of coming out and embracing my queerness after my abusive relationship with my masculine ex-partner terrified me. I didn’t want to be known as the girl who started dating girls because a man didn’t treat her right. It didn’t help that I had grown up with an abusive father. I was also raised with my mami’s expectations of marrying someone who didn’t embody machismo mexicano and marrying a man who treated us right. All my life I was warned not to repeat the life my mom had with my dad, but I ended up falling into the same cycle.

“MY LOVE FOR WOMEN HAS ALWAYS BEEN A PART OF ME”

There are a lot of misconceptions out there that trauma makes us queer, but that’s not true. Being queer in a heteronormative society is what has traumatized me. It’s what forces me to think I’m not queer enough because I haven’t been with another woman.

My love for women has always been a part of me, but I kept my mouth shut not only about my sexuality but also about being a survivor of emotional abuse. When I introduced myself as a bisexual woman to my partner, he couldn’t have cared less. However, that indifference eventually evolved into a concern for him. My bisexuality became an excuse for him to question whether I had a crush on any of my femme friends, or to accuse me of being more likely to cheat. It became an excuse for him to

suggest having a threesome, but the thought of another man being involved would frustrate him. It was him telling me I was ‘straight,’ or asking me “Are you sure you’re bi?” because I was with him. These comments picked at me. Every time, I felt the need to defend myself and stick up for my queerness, but eventually I stopped trying. I grew numb to these comments in exchange for being so desperate for someone that finally loved me and appreciated me.

After I chose to break up with him, I kept contacting him and searching for something that wasn’t there anymore. I was so desperate for love and affection that I no longer knew how to love myself on my own. Each time I went back, I felt new wounds in my heart. Every night I found myself questioning and dissecting the love I thought was there and finding reasons to explain his abusive behavior. In these moments I empathized with him more than with myself. Everyone kept me telling me to move on. I really tried, but sometimes people don’t understand the complexity of abuse. It’s hard to deal with someone who claimed they loved you, but talked down to you, made you question yourself, and shattered your self-esteem. I’m still angry, and I’m still sad, but now I’m working on making a

conscious effort to unapologetically love myself as a queer woman, which means not tolerating any biphobia or staying with someone who doesn’t fully accept me. I am learning to define my sexuality on my terms because I have always given that power to others based on their knowledge of what they saw. I was queer before him, I was queer with him, and I will be queer after him. To the other Xicanas and Latinas coming out to their mamis after experiencing relationships like mine, we will learn to heal and love again. A man did not make us ‘queer.’ We were queer to begin with, and our exes were incapable of giving us the love we deserved.

ERES AMADA

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Business As unUsual Syracuse entrepreneurs work together and give back by Farrell Greenwald Brenner photography by Romy Weidner

n New Year’s Eve of 2012, photographer Pat Orr’s friend asked her what her dream job was. “I would want a food truck,” she answered. Less than three months later, PB & J’s Lunch Box was born. Orr and a friend took their new business on the road for the first time at the Syracuse St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Her business partner quit after six months, and Orr was on her own with no prior food industry experience. On February 8th, 2016, Orr opened the restaurant’s new permanent location at 989 James Street on the ground floor of the Imperial Gardens Apartments with

Sue, her partner in business and life. The new location offers a throwback to customers’ childhoods: bright orange walls are adorned with novelty lunch boxes and a Betty Boop clock. PB & J’s Lunch Box serves homemade classics such as peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, grilled cheese, soups, salads, and other comfort food. Although their take on Mom’s cooking can be elaborate (the “signature grilled PB & J” comes on artisanal bread from a local Italian bakery with house-roasted pecans and has won awards at the State Fair), nothing on the menu is over ten dollars. In the warmer months they still

PB & J's Lunchbox curates a bright interior with delicious homemade cooking.

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Soaps, pottery, and local goods abound inside the crafty Soapworks shop.

take the truck out on the road to hotspots and festivals throughout Syracuse. Hungry queers need not look far from PB & J’s to find more creative, communityoriented food. In 2010, partners Laura Serway and Cindy Seymour combined the first two letters of their names to create the eponymous Laci’s Tapas Bar on Catherine Street in Syracuse’s Historic Hawley-Green District, a neighborhood known for its queer history and culture. Serway and Seymour’s cozy restaurant is characterized by their ethos of advocacy as much as it is by vibrant dishes and ambrosial wine. The partners have made “paying it forward” the centerpiece of their business. “We knew that in order to make our restaurant better, we had to better our neighborhood,” said Seymour in a TEDx Talk at Onondaga Community College.

“Everyone is always watching your back,” Reina says They have renovated condemned Hawley-Green

several homes

which now house other women-owned businesses such as 83 & Co., a bakery, and Fresh Spa and Lounge.They funded and oversaw the installation of a fullyfunctioning kitchen at the Q Center, a facility for LGBTQ youth in Syracuse. Laci’s also sponsors a scholarship for college-bound youth from the Q Center, in memory of former bartender Eddie Kirstein. It’s not unusual for small businesses in Hawley-Green to help each other out; Rick Reina, soaper and owner of the gift shop Syracuse Soapworks, and his partner Jeremy obtained their current location on Hawley Ave with the help of Michael DeSalvo, owner of Hairanoia, a hair salon. They opened in December of 2014. In addition to their own allnatural soaps and skincare products, they sell the wares of over thirty other local artisans–everything from pottery to honey to picture frames. “Our neighbors are our family now... Everyone is always watching your back. They fed us when we moved [to this neighborhood] . We didn’t have a kitchen yet,” Rick Reina said. He sees his community in Hawley-Green as far more tight-knit than that of the Westcott area, where he and his partner first

RFeatures u n n i |n 45 g began making soap in their basement. Hawley-Green benefits from a great diversity of residents, and many of the apartments in the community accept Section 8 Housing Choice Vouchers or other forms of assistance. This means that rent at these residences is subsidized by the Syracuse Housing Authority, allowing families to find and stay in affordable and livable housing despite the rising rent and other symptoms of gentrification that have ravaged neighborhoods in Syracuse. While the Reinas’ customer base is constituted mostly by people from outside of Hawley-Green, Rick thinks that Syracuse largely has a bad rap. “I do the market on Saturdays, and I tell people about the store. So many [people from the northern suburbs] say ‘Oh, I don’t go into the city,’” he said. Reina’s sees this kind of attitude as indicative of the fictitious stereotypes of street violence peddled by local news. It’s full steam ahead for these relatively young businesses. PB & J’s food makes for perfect student fare, and yet the burgeoning business has been met with frustration in their efforts to tap into the GrubHub-friendly market of SU students.

Where National Meets Local Since the election, Orr hasn’t seen any changes in her customer base, which she describes as politicallymixed. Even if she has felt larger cultural shifts towards bigotry and hatred. “During the election…they knew we weren’t voting for

While they aren’t open past six on weekdays, students might find they have a new, cheaper alternative to Marshall Street for lunch. In the meantime, Orr is preparing for the summer ahead; the food truck will be parked in front of the Everson Museum of Art on Fridays in June and August and will make appearances at the Syracuse Food Truck & Craft Beer Festival on May 13th in addition to the New York State Fair. Those looking to support LGBTQ-owned businesses in Syracuse need not only do so from their wallets. For instance, Laci’s occasionally sponsors neighborhood garbage cleanups on Saturday mornings. Organizations such as ArtRage Gallery and publishing company Syracuse Cultural Workers offer opportunities for political and artistic engagement, and the Northeast Hawley Development Association, Inc. hosts tree plantings; all of these are tied to the economic success of business owners and residents in the neighborhood. Just as Seymour and Serway’s investment in the neighborhood and city has gone beyond a model of charity, community members are more than just consumers or beneficiaries at these businesses; they are family.

Trump. We’ve had our little discussions, but they don’t seem to not come in here because of it,” Orr said. She makes a point of keeping CNN on the television in the restaurant. Rick Reina has become more open to discussing politics since the election. He once had a customer walk out after overhearing a negative

comment about President Trump from the counter.. “We don’t want to alienate anybody, but on the other hand, if you feel the way the current administration does, if you’re on the same path— the racism and everything else—then we kinda don’t want your business anyway,” Reina said.

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m o M

m ' I , y a G i H Moms are peopl e too! And sometimes they’re gay. by Michelle Golonka illustration by Lara Hirschberg

“You know what, Michelle, I’m queer too.”

ords I’d heard arranged differently, but always meaningfully, by friends of mine, all of whom I’d approached with enormous hugs and congratulations. This time, when my brain had a million other questions for her about her sexuality and her coming to terms with it, I managed a single word: “Cool.” But moreover, the question burning me up was “Why does this make me feel weird?” I hated that. My mother had just come out to me. I didn’t understand in what universe I, the 21-year-old lesbian daughter, was the one with license to be uncomfortable in this situation. And yet there I was. It was just after Christmas, an encouraging time for queer people raised in religious families as we have

ourselves the merry little Christmas Judy Garland wished for us while she implored we “make the Yuletide gay.” When my large family somehow all ends up back in Ohio, we usually go to dinner. During dinner, my brother began to ask me questions about my girlfriend. For background, as the “gay kid” of my big Catholic family, there’s always excited chatter when the subject of my romantic life arises. Their interest isn’t insidious, but just an insatiable curiosity toward something we used to pray rosaries about. Though I knew they would always love me, the idea of divulging my identity to people and altering the way they thought about me was terrifying. And when someone you love approaches you to divulge their identity, you accept them. That’s what you do. It was after my brother’s questions that my mother suddenly decided to come out to me, my siblings, three strangers, and a Hibachi chef. His onion

RNarrative u n n i |n 47 g

volcano was not the most intriguing part of the meal anymore. I spent some time reflecting on why this revelation took me by surprise. After some chats with queer-identifying friends, I’ve realized we all see our parents on a binary. If you were born into a heteronormative family with a mother and father, you most likely expect that your parents fit into the roles and identities which society has outlined for them. But as we’ve come to learn, sexuality, gender, and everything that make up identity are crucial to who we are and why we exist. We survive through identity. Though our identities can feel static or fluid, they strengthen us because they are ours. In exactly the way I never wanted anyone to limit me, I’d limited this person I love deeply. I told her implicitly that she can only exist in one space and one form. And that was unfair. In conversations I’ve had with her since, I’ve learned that my mom is super rad and complex. She wanted to be a lawyer. Her dad encouraged her brothers to become lawyers. Not her. At points, she remembers wanting to be a boy. She excelled in sports. She studied all the time. She struggled to figure out who she is and what she liked and what she is and who she liked. She became a lawyer.

I wonder if she had grown up in a time where sexual identities that stray from the perceived norm were more visible, would she have felt inclined to search for her own? Identity is confusing, and complex, but moreover beautiful and simple. I’ve realized that my mother’s identity is another part of her that I love. She’s not just my mom; she’s a person, and a really cool person at that.

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Blood

Mix-up your routine with these new, and hip menstruation resources

by Jennith Lucas illustration by Taylor Hicks

Period Underwear: Underwear! That’s it. Well, superabsorbent underwear that can hold up to 10mL of menstrual fluid. You can buy them in many different styles and colors, allowing for a range of gender expressions and personal styles.

f you’re a menstruating person, you’ve probably used disposable pads or tampons. Quick and convenient, it’s hard to beat if it’s what you’re used to. But if you’re curious about what other menstruation accessories are out there for when the uterus goes a-shedding, we’ve got three!

Care:

Rinse out,wash with delicates, and hang dry.

Cost:

$24-38 per pair, 5-7 pairs depending on flow

Where to buy/brands:

Lunapads (lunapads.com); Dear Kate (dearkates.com/); PantyProp (https://www.pantyprop.com/)

SexR&uHealth| n n i n 49 g

Reusable Pads:

Menstrual Cup:

Care:

Cost:

Where to buy/brands:

It’s a pad. Wear it, wash it, repeat. They all have wings to attach to underwear. Some have space for inserts so you can control absorbency. Panty liners, maxi pads, overnight—all of them are available in cotton.

Rinse out and wash. Can be tumble dried or hang dried.

Kits are between $60-150. Individual pads $10-18.

Gladrags (gladrags.com); Lunapads (lunapads.com)

Menstrual cups can hold more liquid than either a pad or underwear. They’re inserted similarly to a tampon, except you have to put them further up the vagina toward the cervix. There they suction to your cervix and catch any flow. If your flow is light to medium, you can go up to 12 hours before needing to empty them. Heavier flows need to be emptied more frequently.

Dump menses in the toilet, and rinse out in sink with soap and water.

$20-40

DivaCup (lunapads.com); Moon Cup (mooncup.co.uk); Keeper (keeper.com), Lunette (lunette.com)

50 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017

The

Winner

Takes It All

What if This Article Won A Tony Award? by McKenna Batterson illustration by Ben Tomimatsu

Arts & Entertainment | 51

or some, June brings excitement for the start of summer, but for those in the theatre community, it is accompanied by excitement for the 71st Annual Tony Awards. Although nominations won’t be announced until May 2nd, the candidates include some legendary LGBTQ stories and performers. Past winners, such as Falsettos, La Cage aux Folles, Kinky Boots, and Fun Home, have paved the way for current Broadway shows and represent landmarks in musical theatre history, establishing the theatre as a place of acceptance for not only the LGBTQ community, but for all people. The standout LGBTQ musical of the season goes to the revival of Falsettos–a show that follows Marvin, a gay man, as he and his ex-wife, child, and friends deal with the sudden AIDS diagnosis of Marvin’s lover. Falsettos was revolutionary when it opened in 1991; it was the first musical to address the AIDS crisis, followed by RENT in 1996, and "gave a truthful voice to people who didn't always feel that the truth was being fully represented," said Marie Kemp, Syracuse University Professor. As Syracuse University professor, Brian Cimmet, said, “It tells a story of people, relationships, struggle, love, pain–stuff that we all have to deal with, whether we understand it or not. And watching others deal with it is a way to understand how to do it ourselves.” Falsettos was not the first musical to put a gay couple on stage–this honor goes to the 1983 musical La Cage aux Folles, an upbeat show about a club owner and his drag queen partner whose

son brings home his fiancé’s ultraconservative parents for the first time. Yet what was so groundbreaking about this musical was not its quirky subject matter but, as Syracuse Professor David Lowenstein said, “…how it represented a same sex couple in a normal way. They were in a family crisis situation that very easily could have been a heterosexual couple.” This representation of a gay couple onstage helped bring homosexuality into the world of many straight, conservative theatregoers. Most inspiring though, was the final song that proudly declared, “I am what I am”–a message anyone, no matter their sexual orientation, could relate to. Ralph Zito, head of Syracuse University’s Drama Department, believes that, “If art doesn’t transcend boundaries, then what’s it for?” Never could a phrase resound more than with the winner of last year’s Best Musical, Fun Home– which featured Musical Theatre’s first ever lesbian protagonist. Fun Home focuses on the life of lesbian author and artist Allison Bechdel as she reminisces on her strained relationship with her father while also examining the difficulties of growing up in a heteronormative society as a young gay girl. Zito emphasized that “it’s important to tell a wide variety of stories by a wide variety of artists…for we are all diminished when the range of stories is narrowed.” Fun Home is just one example of how important it is to tell stories that are rarely told in theatre, not only so theatre can continue to include, but so it can also continue to inform.

52 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017

JUMPING OFF CLIFFS by B. Cashatt

Poetry | 53

I want to pole dance on your exhale I want to take the demons from your closet and the monsters under your bed and shed some light on them I want to seep into your cracks until all I can be is your breathing I want to fist fight with you verbally push you so hard to see what you got to push back at me

every time your e-mail pops up on my automatic settings when I type the letter W or the letter R my breath catches in my lungs and I can feel it in my gut I don’t miss you. every time I hit a punching bag my subconscious pictures your face and I get to a point where there is no difference in my mind between the thrill of punching and the violence of the way I lost myself in the moments when our mouths and tastes moved in and out of each others every time I fuck someone new and she’s screaming she’s screaming harder harder and she’s yelling my name she’s yelling, harder harder and she likes it so much she begins to weep every time I’m in that the disk jockey in my brain puts your voice on repeat and if I close my eyes tight enough and I listen to the sounds that cannot be heard but only felt I know you’re there I can feel you you are the only metaphor I have for jumping off of cliffs.

54 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017 I knew I was in love with you the moment we were on the 9th floor I wanted to jump off like I always do when I am in high places but this time I wanted to be caught that kind of safety had never happened to me before. you are the echo of waves I am driving home from the ocean the last taste of salt on my chapped lips the rip current of you still moving through me If my heart had teeth that is where you kicked me. I took a baseball bat to the photos I lobotomized the children who were never born I found the matches you lit your last cigarette with and set fire to the kitchen table where you would read the newspaper and I would drink the coffee the flame was that fluorescent blue like the outline of your eyes the lawyers have been hired they are filing the depositions in my brain how much money will I spend on billing hours? how much time will it take?

I am the shattered glass you were the flowers I placed you in the vase of me I did not know flowers could throw grow limbs of their own and begin chocking themselves right below the petals _ hinging themselves out walking away “I like your thorns” I said. they leave scars stains on the smooth cool of me I didn’t know I could keep bleeding after so much time there has been so much time I am still mourning the loss of the dogs in the backyard of us, they’re patiently waiting by the screen door to be let back in the room we paid rent for out of our joint bank account you took me for every thing the house the cars you wanted soul. custody I don’t miss you. I cannot get your smell off of me no matter how… green light pretty girl red light in curls

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Diane Wiener photography by Kai Nguyen

remember her looking into my eyes, her jaunty hat askew, as she slid down the banister, into my arms…or, that’s what I imagined when I watched Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins. In 1974, the film was making its second round in theaters. I recall feeling thrilled; I wondered if other kids–particularly the girls–in the audience felt this way, too. At seven years old, I knew I was “different,” or so I suspected. I had a similar awareness about Elizabeth Montgomery on Bewitched. I liked Mary Ann better than Ginger, Velma more than Daphne, and wanted to dress like Errol Flynn as Zorro (before learning he was a fascist jack-ass). Flash forward to age 16. A pal and I went into the Duchess, a famous lesbian club in Greenwich Village. Earlier that year, I tried to confide in my best friend that I was feeling not straight. She looked at me, walked away, and never spoke to me again. I was too scared to say anything after that, and was worried that I would find myself on the street if I told my Orthodox Jewish family. When one relative asked me, “Are you straight or not?” I said I was bi. I was not ready to talk about liking Ken and finding Barbie annoying (I just liked Ken’s attitude, confidence, and access to all manner of dickies, and Barbie was just, well, annoying–this was before I learned about feminism); knowing I was never going to marry a man; liking androgynous girls; not exactly feeling like a girl myself, but certainly not feeling like a boy; or, not thinking–even then–that there were only two genders.

So, there we were, in the Duchess, and these two diesel badass butches looked at us, turned back to each other. One of them whispered, “dessert.” My friend and I dashed out, but we were also laughing, and pleased with ourselves. At 20, I came out, and had my first female partner, who cheated on me with one of our friends. Oy. That didn’t stop me from many wonderful adventures, and a pantheon of alliances of various kinds, with folks of an array of genders and identities. I now identify as gender nonconforming, as queer, as a dyke, and as proudly deviant. I am proud of my queer young adulthood, too, in ACT-UP, the Lesbian Avengers, and Queer Nation. My labors of love have been linked inextricably with my queer gender and sexuality, my Jewishness, and my “mad” me-ness.

56 | The OutCrowd Spring 2017

by Ben Tomimatsu

R u n Out n i |n 57 g

Diane Wiener photography by Kai Nguyen

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